Blog Fest Day #???

Today I am introducing vampires into my blog for the Halloween Blog Fest! I haven’t decided if I want to expand on this blurp or not. Originally I was going to treat this like I did my last two ghost stories by writing a portion then placing the ominous “To be continued” at the end. But this is a creepy excerpt and I like it the way it is. I don’t know if I want to elaborate and risk ruining a good thing. What do YOU think?? Do you like this as is stands or do you want a conclusion?

Day 11- The Vampires of Wellington Hall

Margaret stood in the shadows watching the silhouetted figure of the duke’s daughter in the dark alley behind the bakery. The streets were quiet except for the sound of an alley cat digging through the trash and the sounds of the drunks from the tavern at the end of the street. Margaret had been preparing dough for the morning’s ovens when she saw someone slip past her window which was in the back of the bakery. She wanted to make sure it was not the young boys who had destroyed her cart the night before come back for more fun. She knew it was foolish to venture into the darkness alone, especially with a murderer on the loose.

There had been bodies found throughout the town. Over the past several months, bodies that had been burned to a crisp had turned up. Whatever was left of the bodies that could help identify victims had always turned up either drunks, street urchins, or orphans; people no one would remember or miss. Regardless of the status of the murdered people, the town was on edge at night. The revelers stayed in the taverns most nights for fear of whatever roamed the streets at night. The street urchins who had broken her food cart had done so just before the sun went completely down. They obviously wanted to be in before nightfall as well.

She was no match for a murderer, or even a gang of young men, but her cart was her livelihood when it came to selling her baked goods and she would not stand for it being ruined again. She grabbed her baker’s roll and silently slipped into the night.

What she saw had shocked her.

The rumor was that the duke and his family were blood suckers. They were strange for sure, but Margaret placed no stock in the back alley legends most likely created by drunken lechers and tavern wenches in the dead of night to satisfy their need for a good story. There was no such thing vampires, and there certainly was no family of vampires living in Wellington Hall.

She was wrong.

The girl in the alley was Lady Rose Wellington, daughter of Duke Wellington, an ambassador from the Serbian nation to the British crown. He had been granted immunity by the British government after the Ottomans had split their empire. He had been named ambassador and later, Duke of Wellington, when it became clear he had no ambition of returning to his war torn home. Very little was known about the family but they were good to the people of the town. Lady Rose was beautiful like her mother. Margaret had seen the family in the town from time to time, mostly just the duke, but she had seen Lady Elizabeth Wellington a time or two with her husband. Lady Rose was pale and slim in figure with long locks of coal black hair that reached to her thighs. Margaret wondered what she would be doing out of the Hall so late at night, let alone in a dark alley behind the bakery.

Before Margaret could call out to her, to see if she was well of course, a drunk from the tavern had wandered down the street. He was singing to himself but he was otherwise alone. Margaret watched him step into the alley several paces to relieve himself. She thought to look away, embarrassed that he would be so brazen, but a flash of movement caught her eye. Before the man could scream, Rose Wellington was on him, breaking his neck in the time it takes to bat an eye, and hovering over his dead body on the ground, her red lips to his neck, biting down.

In her trance of disbelief, Margaret stood transfixed upon the situation, not knowing whether to scream or run, both options would give her away as being a witness and Lady Rose’s next potential victim.

She noticed suddenly that she had shut her eyes. She willed herself to open them again just in time to see Lady Rose standing up again, blood dripping from her elongated canines. She took a vile of something out of her corset and doused the dead man, lit a match, and dropped it on the corpse.

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Published by The Bibliophilia Co

I graduated Penn State University with a degree in Medieval Studies. In both reading and writing I enjoy historical biographies, particularly British Royalty or history pertaining to the British Isles. All writing advice, opinions, and criticism is very welcome.
I also run an Etsy shop dedicated to breathing new life in old books. I specialize in upcycled book crafts that make great gifts for my fellow book lovers. The Bibliophilia Co is where books are immortal.
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